


The Serpent's Daughter

by stanlee



Category: BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-02-06
Packaged: 2019-10-23 06:57:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17678642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stanlee/pseuds/stanlee
Summary: A conversation between Chisato, Hina and Aya that promptly becomes the calm to a brewing storm. That storm happens to be the exposing of Chisato's most regretful secret.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i'm ashamed of the trainwreck that is my wattpad

"To Pastel*Palettes and beyond!"

Eve was barely able to parry Hina's enthusiastic toast with her china teacup, most of it splattering onto the table... and Maya.

"The spirit of a warrior is what allows us samurai to gloat in our victory!"

"Ah, Eve..." Maya reached instinctively over to nab a couple of paper napkins, mouth drawn in a wobbly line out of concern for her dampened cargo pants. "I'm... just gonna go to the bathroom."

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Maya-chan!" Eve's blue eyes widened, pushing back the wooden chair to get up. "Do you need me to help you?"

"N-no, it's fine Eve-chan! Really!" Maya's hands were already up in a defensive position, backing into an aisle of coffee beans. "Really, there's no need to worry!"

"I refuse to accept your denial! A true upholder of bushido does not let her crimes go without cost!"

Surprisingly, Hina didn't attempt to amplify Maya's dilemma, but once Eve disappeared around the corner, Hina took a fork and stuck it in Eve's fruit parfait.

Watching the scene unfold, Aya couldn't help but giggle to herself. She could hardly believe this was the idol band that was celebrating the success of their third album, selling over 10,000 copies of their two singles in a month.

The five of them had decided to go to one of their few meeting areas, Hazawa cafe, a few hours after an interview promoting their music. For an odd reason, they had always automatically made their way there as a group whenever a member was feeling down, but for this occasion, there was a silent agreement that they'd wanted to break the habit, just this once.

The cafe was set in a warm, buttery light, making the sweets they had ordered look like they had come straight from the oven. The group had opted for the usual double tables, right by the window sill, which had homely stand up photos of Tsugumi and her family. There was even one with Pastel*Palettes after the band had gained enough traction to be well noticed in public areas. Lavender and white flowers in wooden flower pots rested on the surface beside the frames, which was oddly reminiscent of Eve's color scheme. Each table had a tiny chalkboard listing the daily specials or recommended treats, and a tiny succubi plant to pair.

"Having a laugh there, I see, Aya-chan."

Aya turned, seeing the blonde aimlessly drawing circles with her teaspoon in her cup. Gentle ripples resonated through the amber liquid in an almost hypnotic manner, and despite the warm ambiance there was an ominous air of foreboding emanating from the child actress.

Chisato let the spoon drop. "Aya-chan, we're friends, are we not?"

Huh? Where was this coming from, all of the sudden? Aya opened her mouth, but pursed her lips shut, unsure of Chisato's intentions. Even if her inquiry was only surface level, it was still concerning because it meant she was doubting their friendship as a whole. Did she?

Sensing Aya's distress, Chisato waved her hand to dismiss her own question.

"I feel that my phrasing was a bit broad. Don't worry, there's no desire of me to cut off my camaraderie with Pastel*Palettes," she backtracked.

"O-of course we're friends!" Aya stammered, delayed. "You scared me a little, but now I want to know why you're asking something like that."

"It's nothing I'm anxious to know immediately," Chisato replied with a bit of a lilt, but her next words were dangerously juxtaposed to her relaxed tone.

"But to be frank, I'm a little envious of the way people let loose around each other. I'm sure... if I were to bare the innermost parts of myself to the four of you, it'll only serve to remind me of how transient relationships are."

Cryptid as ever. The child actress seemed to be warming up to the group, no doubt about it, but Chisato still had ways to go in terms of honesty, and to a larger extent, trust. Aya appreciated Chisato's new efforts to soften her words while giving criticism, but oftentimes it bothered her that every sentence was carefully calculated before articulated; feelings veiled behind a polite and indifferent mask even outside of their work.

"People are strange, aren't they?" Hina cocked her head, red velvet macaron in hand. Aya hadn't even realized she had reached over to nab it from the box. "I don't get why you don't want to be yourself around us, though.

"You've never tried to open up to us, so it's unfair of you to make that assumption in the first place, don'tcha think?"

Hina's tone was casual, but there was an analytical undercurrent in her voice as she popped the rest of the macaron in her mouth. As usual, there was no malice behind her intentions, but regardless, Aya cringed at the direct accusation.

Hina was a prodigy, so of course she'd be able to draw that kind of conclusion on the spot. Still, although her IQ must be off the charts, Hina was awfully blunt and didn't know the first thing about sensitivity or boundaries when interacting with others. Would Chisato be angry? Or would she flat out avoid Hina's prying altogether?

"Ah." Chisato sat back in her chair, a wisp of a smile framed on her face. "You aren't wrong at all, Hina-chan. It's just part of my nature, I suppose. Maybe one day I'll find it in my heart to reach out to you all, and not just as Pastel*Palettes."

"Hey, are you trying to mock us? That's the exact kinda textbook response you'd say during a show."

"Take it as you will." Chisato put down money for the patisserie, then stood up and shouldered her beige handbag. Aya noticed now that her dish was completely untouched. "It's getting late, so I should go now. It was rejuvenating to relax with all of you."

With a jangle of the chimes, she was gone.

"She's hiding something from us, don't you think, Aya-chan?" There was a dull gleam in Hina's citrus green eyes as she stared after the door, almost as if someone had taken a light switch and abruptly flicked it off.

"She seemed like she was trying to test you, but she backed out of it last second. Maybe she's afraid of what your answer might have been... Kind of a weird way to say goodbye, right?"

"Hmm, forget what I said." Hina's eyes lit up again.

"I've never wanted to drink tea since everyone's always told me it was bitter. Maybe I should give it a try this time?"

Aya heard approaching footsteps, signifying Maya and Eve were back.

"Sorry it took us so long." Maya sat in her seat and scooted closer in. Her pants were now completely dry. "Eve managed to get her hands onto a blowdryer, and then when she was drying my pants she somehow ruined the outlet, so I ended up having to fix that before anyone found out, heh."

"It all worked out, thanks to bushido!" Eve chirped.

"Hey, where's Chisato-chan?" Maya asked, looking around.

Hina glanced up, teacup dangling from a dangerous angle around her fingers, close to her mouth. "She had to leave early, saying stuff like how it was getting too late."

"Eheh, that's the diligent Chisato-chan for us..."

The conversation droned on, leaving Aya to her own troubling thoughts.

Although the trip to the cafe was pleasant for the most part, the mood for the evening was tainted.

_How could Chisato say such cold things?_ Aya wondered, bewildered. Did she really think that after all the times they support each other during concerts, all the countless practices they pulled through together to strengthen themselves, all their efforts as a team weren't enough to convince Chisato that she could rely on them just as much as they did on her?

"Ack! Aya, pass me another macaron! This is gross."

Aya wordlessly took another sweet from the box and handed it to Hina, who swallowed it whole.

"Transient..." Aya let the word sit on her tongue. "Chisato..."

You're not being fair.


	2. I Hate Having To Act

She pushed the cafe door open with some effort, cold glass pressing into her palms, heated from the presence of the heated teacup she’d wrapped her palm around due to habit, the jangle of the copper door chimes overhead a sweet and sharp twinkle against her ears. The rudimentary aesthetic of the cafe gave way to the humid midsummer night, browns and beiges melding into deep azure and gray outlines of neighboring buildings. A couple of stray cats lounged around the area, stretching next to storefronts or perched on the railings, enjoying the reprieve from the aggressive afternoon sun.

Chisato pressed her hands on her sheer skirt and smoothened it down, a bit miffed she had left moisture marks in the shape of a handprint on Tsugumi’s transparent panes. But they would fade away soon enough, and there were more pressing, more pertubuling issues on the blonde’s mind than whether or not anyone had noticed the wet imprints on the bakery door.

Chisato made her way down the block which was subdued aside from the clicks of her heels and the crinkling of the extra desserts she’d bought appetite-less. At the end of the block, she came across a bench and set the bag down beside her. Milliseconds later, a brown tabby hopped right beside her almost on command, rumbling as he stretched his head to touch the back of Chisato’s hand, wasting no time to receive extra attention from someone that wasn’t a passerby.

Instinctively, Chisato reached out to brush her knuckles lightly against his fur, but faltered once her hand no longer covered the tom’s eyes. When juxtaposed against the darkening sky, pale sunny orbs gleamed at her, almost blinding Chisato in their intensive light, inquisitive and accusing.

_"You've never tried to open up to us, so it's unfair of you to make that assumption in the first place, don'tcha think?"_

Hina had been compared to a cat on several occasions, through quips on talk shows and when asked what animal she’d be during fan signs, but the resemblance never quite struck until this very moment, where Chisato was staring at the feline face on. Distractedly, she ran her hand over his preening back, trying to push the bitter exchange of the evening out of the back of her mind to no avail, the tape unrolling before her like an aged, yellowing memory reel she wanted to tear into shreds.

To say Chisato didn’t like her bandmate couldn’t be further from the truth, but Chisato would be lying if Hina’s ability to analyze people with cut-throat precision coupled with her lack of boundaries weren’t burdensome at times. This was definitely one of those times, as she’d botched up one of the few opportunities Chisato had had to question Aya properly, furthering the everpresent gap that existed between herself and her bandmates with insecurity.

Opening up to the four was an alien concept, and yet…

There Chisato had sat in the cafe, challenging her relationship with Pastel Palettes to Aya, expecting her, no, wanting her to lie to her face and say that she would have her back as if they had been confidants for years, and trusting each other by choice. Sure, after the critical period in their careers, Chisato hadn’t given any of the members reason to think she’d betray them, though that hadn’t been difficult, them being naive to a fault. Aside from being an essential part of the group itself, she had carefully depicted herself as hardly more than a coworker and barely a peer. Chisato was convinced she didn’t need to let others in, ever since that day, so why was she seeking Aya’s validation?

A memory tucked in the back of Chisato’s mind unfurls like a blooming flower.

She’s crouched in the back of the classroom, back against the closet lockers and arms curled around her knees. School is long over, and most of the students have finished cleaning up the classrooms, friends walking down the halls together to the broom closet or heading to the incinerator to do away with trash. No one has entered Class 2D, seeing that it’s her turn to stay overtime.

The sun is streaming through the window she’s sitting in front of, and it shines upon the polished desks in fragmented shards of light that hit Chisato’s face with violent streaks of white. They’re spotting her vision with blotches of cerulean and coral whenever she blinks, but she doesn’t shift from her position until a girl with porcelain skin and baby blue hair swings open the door, shouldering a schoolbag under each arm.

“Here you go Chisato-chan.” Kanon puts her own bag onto the desk and places the latter’s in front of her. “I don’t think they took anything, just rummaged through it.”

Chisato nods gratefully, not trusting her voice, and zippers open her bag for a once-over. True to Kanon’s word, everything was intact, even her money, just in the wrong position.

“I also took over your class duties this week, b-but don’t worry! You can help me with mine the next time if you want to.”

“It’s fine, I’ll do all of yours on my own. You’ve been a great help Kao- Kanon-chan.” Chisato’s voice catches, for the girl she’s talking to isn’t starting to grow into her gangly, foal-like features, and she certainly isn’t in the process of molding a womanizing persona for herself. “You should go home. I’m sorry I’ve burdened you like this.”

Shame makes the lump in her throat swell even further for confusing Kanon’s name after all her kindness and she turns away, unable to look at her newfound friend in the eye. Hot tears pick at the edges of her retinas, but Chisato refuses to give in, refuses to let the ever-so-resilient Chisato cry. But what was that Chisato? Did she really not want to break down or is she just worried that it doesn’t match the image she thinks Kanon sees?

Kanon turns her back on Chisato, and for a fleeting moment Chisato feels a drop in the pit of her stomach at the thought of Kanon leaving even though she had just told her to do so. Contrary to her expectation, all Kanon does is sit on the desk, legs hanging over the back of the chair, and stares at the window. They don’t say anything for a while, just indulging in the silence.

Chisato takes the time to study Kanon, lilac eyes glowing lavender in the afternoon sun, her left leg crossed over her right and slightly turned towards the window. It’s half open, so her hair billows out in small gusts from the soft breeze. They tumble off her shoulder in rippling waves, like a gentle ocean or a cloud meandering by.

She’s done this more times than she’d admit, more than she thought reasonable as someone she called her friend, but Kanon, blissfully oblivious, has never noticed or mentioned the quick, furtive glances she’d stolen from her. It was worth it every time, because Chisato always found new things to admire about her.

Like right now, instead of the way Kanon shrinks over herself during school hours, trying her hardest not to be noticed, she’s perfectly in her element, serene and at peace.

_With me._

Gathering her courage and resolve to speak at last, Chisato murmurs, “I’m tired of being Chisato Shirasagi.”

Kanon turns to Chisato, still mute, patiently waiting for her to continue. Nevermind a friend, it’s the first time she’s ever opened up to someone, and she doesn’t want to mess it up.

“It’s an unspoken rule that I’m indebted to all of my fans, no matter what. And I do feel that way, because they’re the reason why I step on the stage and give a performance. What happiness could you possibly derive out of being an actress if you don’t have an audience to view your art?

“But… sometimes I hate them the moment I step off. I hate having to act like everything they do is okay- why do I have to pretend that stealing my bag to sell information to paparazzi is fine? I stand a chance of being mobbed and harassed everywhere outside of school, but the one place I get to _act_ normal, I’m avoided like the plague.”

Chisato bitterly motions to the glass pane. “Whether it’s the sun or the spotlight shining down on me doesn’t matter. I’m playing a role all the same.”

Taken aback by her own frankness, Chisato holds her breath as she tries to gauge Kanon’s expression. What advice could she give that would ease the burden of a status she didn’t ask for and couldn’t change? For the millionth time, a pang of guilt embeds itself in Chisato’s chest for asking too much of one girl.

Kanon doesn’t say a word as she slides off of the desk and kneels in front of Chisato, those lilac eyes not leaving hers for a moment.

The air between them is unbearably electrifying as Kanon closes the space inbetween them. She’s frozen, out of control for the second time today, but the feeling of anticipation that burns through her isn’t unpleasant by any means. Luckily, Chisato’s acting skills have never failed her, and she maintains her composure although her heart is threatening to pop out of her chest and blood is rapidly rushing through her ears as they seem to simmer with heat the sunlight didn’t warm before.

All the colors of the classroom saturate when Kanon shyly takes Chisato’s hand, face flushed pink, and through all her turbulent emotions, her senses in overdrive, Chisato had thought in that moment she had never seen someone more angelically beautiful in her life. 

“I hope I’m not asking too much of you when I say this but…”

Her best friend, her only friend, gently opens her palm and presses it against her lips in a soft kiss.

“You don’t need to be Chisato Shirasagi with me.”

_Ding._

What jolted Chisato out of her stupor was a text message from none other than Matsubara Kanon herself.


End file.
